Crimson Tears and Distant Dreams
by Ithilvalan
Summary: A tale of Celebrian's life from whence she dwelt with Elrond to when she passes over the sea.
1. Dawn Rises

Chapter One  
Dawn Rises

She was running, quickly and blindly, with nowhere to go. One moment she had been at the feast with her lord, and the next moment fleeing for her life. The darkness surrounded her, obscuring her vision. The forest itself seemed to rise up against her, the tree branches looming wickedly in front of her. Out of nowhere, they had appeared. They leered at her with their crude swords held aloft in the air, glimmering in the fell light. Celebrían shivered. Her gown was sheer for the weather had been hot at the feast.

Until she found herself in this forest. A swarm of orcs pursued her, eager for the spill of her blood. The nearest one, an orc chieftain with malevolent yellow eyes, reached out his grimy hands. The short stubby fingers grabbed hold of her filmy gown, ripping it. Celebrían paid no mind, and continued to run. But she had reached a cliff. Looking back, she saw that they were closing in. With a moment's hesitation, she turned to fling herself off the cliff. But they had reached her.

Celebrían tried to scream. The foul stench of the tortured creatures overwhelmed her, and she fell with a swoon. With the end of her dreams, Celebrían's eyes snapped open, startled out of her sleep. Panting heavily, she sat up. She was safe in the middle of Imladris, far away from any dark forest. The soft comforters of her bed were tangled around her, for she had tossed and turned in her sleep. Pushing them aside, she saw that Elrond had already risen.

"Elrond?" she asked quietly, looking around for her lord.

"Yes?" he replied.

Following his voice, she saw that he was standing by the balcony. The bright rays of dawn had broken, sending streaks of pink and gold across the sky. Elrond stood gazing into the sky. Celebrían wrapped her robe closer around her, shivering despite the warmth. Standing up, she padded over to where her husband stood. As his gaze shifted to her, his bemused expression immediately turned worried. "Celebrían, are you all right?" he asked, concern obvious in his voice. "Another nightmare?" The already sharp creases in his forehead deepened and he put his arm around her.

She shook her head quickly, her soft blond hair swishing around her head. She looked up at him and managed a tired grin. "I'm fine, dearest." She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to forget her nightmare.

In the distance, Celebrían could hear the gentle trickle of a river and the torrent of waterfalls. The birds of the morning chirped merrily, all blissfully unaware of her nightmare. Outside, she could hear some of the children playing, and the low susurrus of the grown elves that were sitting in the courtyard. It was just another day. She leaned against Elrond on a seat by the balcony, thinking about her dream. It had all seemed so real to her. Stop it. You might scare the children. She scolded herself. And just as she was thinking about them, two energetic young elf lads.

"Mother, mother!" One of them, a bright eyed, excited boy bounded through the door. "Elladan threatened to leave me at home the next time they went to the forest." Elrohir, the one who was slightly younger, was the more energetic son. He was constantly getting in trouble, and always reprimanded by his older brother. He ran straight into Celebrían's arms, his wide eyes searching for defense by his mother. He tugged on the golden hem of her robe, before emitting a squeak as he saw his brother and ducking behind her. Elrond stood besides her, watching this with interest.

Elladan, the older twin, stood by the door, his arms crossed. "Mother, Elrohir is making up stuff again. Why, he said that just last night you were screaming when you were asleep."

Celebrían, in the midst of comforting her younger son, froze. Elrond, noticing this, said, "Boys, please. Your mother is not feeling well. Take your play elsewhere." He ushered them out of the door, before approaching his wife.

Just as he reached her, the door opened again. This time tentatively, as if the one who opened it was unsure of herself. Indeed, their little daughter, Arwen entered the bedchambers. Behind her she dragged a small oliphaunt doll. Her brown hair covered the greater portion of her small face and she fingered the hem of her olive covered gown before she looked up shyly at her parents.

"Mother," she began, before looking down at her feet again, blushing.

"Yes, darling?" Celebrían asked absentmindedly.

"Mumy and I were wondering if we could go outside and play by the stream today. Glorfindel said he'd come and watch us."

Celebrían and Elrond exchanged glances. Rumors of a shadow arising were very distant. After a moment's thought, they both agreed.

"All right," Elrond said. "As long as Mumy takes care of you, and Glorfindel remembers lunch."

A bright smile lit across Arwen's face and she bounced out happily, Mumy springing uncomfortably behind her. On the way out she nearly tripped over her voluminous gown, and Celebrían added, "And change your dress."

She sighed as Arwen had passed long out of earshot, and turned her attention towards Elrond. He seemed to know what was troubling her. Running his long, tapered fingers through her hair, he murmured, "It's all right, Celebrían. Nothing will reach you here." She moved closer to him, feeling the warmth of his body against hers. She wanted to feel reassured. She knew Elrond would not lie to her. Nor would he let her be taken. But something in her warned her about danger forthcoming. She shook her head, ignoring the thoughts and looked outside. They stood there, watching the sunrise in silence. A red sun rose slowly in the east.


	2. Changes

Chapter Two  
Changes

The years passed quickly, as it was wont to do for the Eldar. Though they all appeared the same to Celebrían, suddenly Elladan and Elrohir had grown to full stature. Arwen, as well, had grown. Celebrían lay against the recliner, pondering. She had long since passed her prime, and though she was not yet weary of the world the years seemed to get longer. No longer had she the energy to take her stroll along the rivers of Imladris with her beloved Elrond.

No longer would she laugh as he pointed out the comic movements that the animals seemed to do. No longer would she rest with him, sitting silently by the streams, glad to be outside and together. She sighed, wistful for the days when he was courting her. Running her fingers along the carefully stitched golden embroidery. Pushing back the lavish, hanging sleeves of her burgundy gown, she adjusted the heavy locket that Elrond had given her as their betrothal gift.

The golden necklace had a light chain that made Celebrían wonder how it supported the locket. Inside was drawn a portrait of herself with her beloved Elrond on the day of their wedding. Happy they were, eager for the days they would enjoy together, his arm wrapped around her comfortingly. But now he was always busy, busy with counsel, busy with the warriors, busy with the children, busy with everything. He no longer had time to take her for walks, to show her all the sights of Imladris.

Eventually, Celebrían had lost interest in seeing her land. Life still held interest for her, but not as much as it did when she had just reached her prime. Sighing once again, Celebrían got up from her seat and walked down the stairs to the feasting hall. The noontime meal had arrived; most of the elves of Rivendell were seated around the grand table, chatting with each other merrily.

A hush fell upon the room when she entered. The elves all averted their glances. Celebrían raised her eyebrow, locking gazes with Elrond. He too, looked aside quickly, but beckoned for her to sit. After she took a seat besides her husband, she looked at him curiously. He refused to meet her glance, instead saying, "You may all resume eating," and bent over, eating his bread quietly. Besides him, Elladan and Elrohir sat, staring straight ahead, neither of them addressing their mother either.

Celebrían turned to her daughter almost pleadingly; hoping that Arwen would acknowledge her. But all she caught was her deep grey eyes, which immediately turned the other way. Celebrían felt hurt rise up in her throat, threatening to overwhelm her. Tears began to fill in Celebrían's dark blue eyes, glistening in the bright light of the feast hall. Turning her head aside, she took a deep breath and willed away the tears. When she turned to face the others in the hall, no longer were her eyes soft. They had hardened into stormy sapphires, though dull without sheen.

"My lords and ladies," she began with a slight bow. "I have come to you today not as Celebrían, the lady of your people. I came today as another one of your people. I am no different than anyone else. Please, resume your speech. Do not stop talking just because Celebrían has entered." With this speech she sat down, but not besides Elrond on her own seat. Nay, the embellished throne-like chair she normally sat in could go to one more worthy for her husband and children. Today she would sit on the lower tables like the rest of their people.

Taking in a deep breath, she smiled at the elf lass that sat besides her. The lass emitted a squeak and looked down at her food. "Tell me, lass, what is your name?" she asked kindly.

"I'm Súlanna, milady Celebrían." The girl ducked her head again.

Celebrían placed her hand on the shoulder of Súlanna. "A gift of the wind you are, my dear," she said quietly, looking at the girl's slight figure and delicate face.

The girl looked up, surprised. Celebrían chuckled lightly. "It is not a name I've heard before, but it is quite beautiful. I imagine your parents had made it up, is that not true?" she asked.

"Yes milady," Súlanna replied, looking a bit less shy.

Celebrían looked up, remembering when she herself first visited Imladris. It was much more grand and overwhelming than Laurelindorenan. She felt more at home in the beautiful golden woods, playing in the forest amongst the other Galadhrim. And spending time with her father and her beautiful lady mother, dwelling amongst the trees. The sorrow they both felt, lingering from the ages before those of the sun, had affected Celebrían more than she realized. For she too yearned to see the light of Aman, to feel the power of the Valar. She too wanted to sail across the seas and to see the beauty that she had missed.

But it was not yet her time. Every time she stepped onto the white shores of the water, something inside her would not let her sail. Though she yearned to see the beautiful swan ships of her kin the Teleri, she knew that it would still be many more years before she set sail. Sighing, Celebrían remembered that Súlanna was still sitting patiently besides her. Turning to the young elf, she said ruefully, "I'm sorry dear, I just got so caught up in my own life."

Súlanna smiled, meekly at first, but upon seeing the kindly look on her lady's face grew bold enough to ask a question. "Milady, I'm sorry if it appears brash of me to ask, but what made you come here to Imladris? I mean, I've heard from my mother and father that you were born of the great Lady Galadriel, and the lord Celeborn." The lass paused for a moment, afraid that she had angered Celebrían.

Celebrían turned around, her sea blue eyes piercing. Súlanna trembled, bracing herself for the worst. "It was a fateful day," Celebrían began, preparing herself for the story. "My father and mother had told me that an important guest, one of the sons of the great mariner Eärendil was going to visit one day. I was young then, barely the age of maturity. I had not really paid much attention to what they were saying, and shrugged it off as another elf prince coming to visit, perhaps to talk about my betrothal." She paused to allow a slight grin. "So that day, I had been playing on the trees with some of the other elves around my age. It was late in the evening when I returned to Caras Galadhon. To top it off, my dress was torn and there were leaves, twigs and whatnot in my hair.

Needless to say, my mother was very irritated. She hid her irritation, however, since she and my father were talking to a stately elf who sat strong and upright besides him. I couldn't help but to giggle for he looked so stiff. However, I realized it was a mistake, for as soon as the laugh escaped my mouth he turned his steely gaze to me. I paused, for the first time conscious of my horrible appearance. Instead of scoffing in disdain, however, he began to laugh. It started off as a polite and discreet smile, but it turned to outright laughter. Fairly soon, I was also laughing, though I did not know why." Celebrían smiled, remembering the day fondly. "After that, the elf-lord introduced himself as Elrond Half-elven and bade me take a seat besides him. Within the week, I had fallen in love." She cut off abruptly when she saw that silence had once again spread throughout the hall. Everyone, including her lord, was staring at her. Celebrían glanced around nervously, before fleeing the room. The door shut behind her with a loud clang.


	3. Falling Like Rain

Chapter Three  
Falling Like Rain

Celebrían ran up the stairs, the tears streaming steadily down her cheeks, until she reached her bedroom. She collapsed upon the bed, letting the tears flow into her pillow. Celebrían continued to sob. How could he do this to her? Elrond had confessed that he had loved her ever since he laid eyes upon her, when she and Galadriel sought Celeborn in Imladris. She had not known it then, not until he admitted it. But after that fateful day in Lórien, she knew that they would have to be together.

Celebrían stirred, turning her tearstained face to look outside the window. Though she stared, Celebrían could see nothing. Her hand scrabbled into the pouch sitting on the girdle of her gown, clamping around a brooch. Pulling it out, she looked at it. The eagle spread its wings proudly, the jeweled eyes glimmering. It was the Elessar. Hope that her mother had passed on to her. She held the brooch aloft, watching the eagle shine in the rays of the noonday sun.

Celebrían sighed and wiped the tears from her face angrily, staring at the ceiling. She would not cry here, nor would she wallow in her own self-pity. Nay, she would be strong and pull through this. As she calmed down, Celebrían realized something. Perhaps they were planning something for her. Perhaps there was a reason for this. Yes, there probably was, she assured herself. Her husband and children would not ignore her for no reason.

Celebrían swung her legs over the bed and headed over to the basin of water that sat by her shelf. Peering into it, Celebrían was shocked with her expression. Her eyes were red rimmed and her cheeks puffy. Taking a washcloth from the shelf, she dipped it into the water, scattering her reflection. She could not return downstairs looking so distraught. Nay, she thought, rubbing her eyes angrily. She would go like the queen that everyone thought she was. Straightening up, Celebrían took the cloth and wrung the excess water from it. Taking a deep breath, she began to wash her face. After a few moments of gentle scrubbing, Celebrían looked into the basin. Her cheeks were still pale and white, and faint lines were apparent around her eyes.

She sighed. It would do. She smoothed out the wrinkles in her gown that formed after she had lay down on the bed. The regal gown would never be the same. Celebrían turned around and trudged slowly down the stairs. When she reentered the feast hall, she saw that Elrond was standing by the door.

He held out his hand, and she took it. Holding her head high, Celebrían walked towards her table. She was trembling. Giving Elrond a sidelong glance, she saw that he had also noticed this and squeezed her hand.

Celebrían suddenly felt reassurance flow through her just as the warmth from being next to her beloved. "Elrond?" she murmured quietly.

"Yes, love?" he replied, holding her arm reassuringly.

"What is going on?" she asked.

"Don't you worry about it," he said soothingly.

They were approaching the end of the table. Celebrían looked around at the faces of the elves of Imladris. They all averted their glances, but continued speech. The familiar faces—her friends, her family, they all looked strange and foreboding. Celebrían sighed and looked outside. To her surprise, soft drops of rain were now falling. The steady pitter-patter beat against the ceiling of the Last Homely House. Celebrían looked outside wistfully, reminiscent of the days she spent frolicking in the rain back in Lórien. Elrond, once again, seemed to notice her expression, and guided her gently to her seat. Clearing his throat, he faced the crowd of elves. "May I please have your attention?"

The room fell silent once more. Elrond looked around before continuing, "As you may know, this marks the one hundredth year my lady Celebrían has been with us in Imladris."

Celebrían looked stunned. How could she have forgotten? Looking back at the elves sitting in their seats, she saw that they were smiling, pleased for their lady. Celebrían felt completely overwhelmed. Collapsing into her seat, all she could do was stare blankly. A line formed as enthusiastic hands pushed presents into her arms.

"Here, milady." An eager lad handed her a package wrapped roughly in brown paper.

A pair of shy hands inched their way closer to her. Celebrían looked down and saw that it was Súlanna. "Please take this," she murmured softly before dissipating into the crowd.

With shaking fingers Celebrían undid the intricate knot. Out came an elaborately woven gown. A dark, forest green velvet, it would bring out the shine in Celebrían's eyes and show off her slim figure perfectly. Celebrían searched the crowd, wanting to find the lass and thank her.

The shower of gifts continued. Celebrían began to feel overwhelmed, and she placed a hand to her forehead. Everything was blurring together. Elrond stood by her, looking at her worriedly.

And it was the last thing Celebrían remembered as she fell into a swoon.

Voices…familiar ones. Celebrían stirred, turning around. A fast paced, low voice conversing with two other worried ones. A chiming of a more feminine tone. Opening her eyes, Celebrían shook her head groggily. Elladan stood above her, peering into her eyes. Elrond held her hand loosely, his head in his hands. Arwen and Elrohir stood by the door, unsure of what to do. She blinked. They had disappeared. She was stuck in a fog. Haze lazed around her, obscuring her vision.

"Elrond?" she asked, her voice tremulous. "Where are you?"

Out of the thickness of the air around her Celebrían thought that she could here a voice. "Elrond?" she tried again, louder this time.

She was lost, wandering in the middle of nowhere. Voices emerged from the mist. These were not familiar ones. They were begging, pleading for Celebrían to release them from their pain. Celebrían's eyes darted back and forth nervously. She had nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. Once again, all went black.


	4. To Lorien

Chapter Four  
To Lórien

Something or someone was shaking her. Celebrían groaned, shaking her head. "Not yet," she murmured. "It is not my time yet."

She was walking in a glade where the silver light of the trees shone upon her. Arien had not yet came over the horizon. A soft glow filled the forest. "Lórien," Celebrían whispered softly. She could hear the sweet sound of Nimrodel dancing along the riverbank. The mallorn trees were in full bloom, for it was summer. Lórien…voices echoed in her dream. To there she must go.

Opening her eyes, Celebrían uttered, "Lórien."

Elrond looked at her closely, his eyebrows knitted in worry. "What, darling?"

"Lórien. I must go to Lórien," Celebrían said more firmly, struggling upwards. She balanced herself against the back of the bed, looking Elrond in the eye. Elrond bit his lip, holding back something. Celebrían could see the internal struggle in him. She knew that he wanted her by his side, to be with her. But he also knew that he wanted her to be happy. "Meleth nín, I am afraid that as long as I remain in Imladris, I will not be happy. I must go to Lórien and see my mother and father. Do not fret, melethron." She pushed herself upwards, moving closer to Elrond. Her trembling fingertips inched forward, clasping firmly against his arm.

As he grasped her hand, Celebrían fell back against the back. "Alas, I fear that I am wearied. Let me sleep." She closed her eyes and fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Elrond sighed, and whispered, "Sleep well, melethril nín."

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged glances, before walking forward. "Ada," Elladan began, "Is nana really going back to Lórien?"

Elrond blinked as if he did not quite understand what his son had said. After a moment's silence, he nodded gravely. "I do not know what plagues your mother, but I want the best for her."

Elrohir nodded. He had grown out of his childish, rather flabby stage and was now of a stature as majestic and stern as his brother. "I agree."

Arwen glided over. She too, had matured into an elf-maiden whose beauty was said to rival that of Lúthien. "Ada," she said quietly.

"Yes, Arwen?" Elrond prompted.

"May I be permitted to go with nana on this journey?"

"Yes, Ada, may we accompany nana as well?" Elladan and Elrohir chimed in, looking for a moment eager.

Elrond shook his head. "Nay. This journey is for your nana alone."

"But surely you don't mean—" Elrohir interrupted, alarmed.

Elrond held up a hand for silence. "I will make sure your nana has the best escort we can provide her. But you three will remain in Imladris with myself."

"Ada," Arwen protested.

"No." With this, Elrond sent them all the sternest look he could muster. They backed down and with a bow exited the chamber one by one.

Elrond leaned over Celebrían, smoothed her hair from her face, and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. " Le melithon anuir, my Celebrían." With one last look at his wife, Elrond also left the room.

The night passed slowly. Early the next dawn, Celebrían rose from her bed. The ages had passed so swiftly that she could barely remember the days of yore. Tracing the symbols on the wall, she was still amazed that it was pass two thousand years into the Third Age. Something in her told her that soon the ages of the Eldar would pass. The age of Men would come. But that age had not yet come.

Celebrían took one last look at her bedchamber. It would be many long years before she returned. Stepping onto the balcony, Celebrían swept aside her skirts and sat down on the bench. The beautifully carved bench that Elrond had made especially for them, for when they would sit outside watching the Sun rise and set. Celebrían sighed, something that she had been doing far too often. She would miss the days she and Elrond spent together.

Celebrían allowed one glistening tear to slide down her cheek. The streaks of gold that flashed through the sky contrasted sharply with how she felt. A heavy weight was lifting from her heart, only to be replaced with another one. Sadness. She had watched her sons and daughter grow up, but she was unable to play with them as often as she'd like. They had always treated her like a delicate doll, one that was beautiful and admired by all, but not often taken down and loved as much as others.

Perhaps that was all she was good for. To be looked upon at a distance. Celebrían shook her head fiercely. No. She would not succumb to such horrible thoughts. She was loved. It was just not her wont to be as active in the doings of Imladris as she would have liked. She placed a hand to her neck, feeling the reassuring shape of the Elessar. The elf-stone. The heirloom passed on by her mother.

A sudden knock at the door made Celebrían start. Turning around, she had to take a moment to steady herself before finding her voice and saying in a wavering voice, "Come in."

The door creaked open slowly, and she saw Elrond enter. His mien was grave as he approached her, arms out. She immediately dove into his arms. Words failed her as she buried his face into him and sobbed, soaking his robes. There was nothing either of them could say. All he did was stroke her hair gently. They remained there for a long while, until Elladan poked his head into the room. "Ada? Nana? It is time."

Celebrían looked up into Elrond's eyes. He nodded and pushed her gently towards her son. Looking back over her shoulder, she smiled weakly, her eyes sparkling and full of unshod tears.

Elrond could not bear to look. He turned his head the other way, looking into the sky. "May Elbereth protect you," he murmured softly towards the noonday sun.

I love you


	5. Waylaid

Chapter Five  
Waylaid

Celebrían, her heart heavy, departed Imladris. Her head downcast and hidden in the folds of her cloak, she let her tears fall freely. The cold of the evening blew a wind to her cheeks. Celebrían shivered, unused to the cold. And the gown she wore was ceremonial, a light feathery thing meant to impress. It was not for hard travelling. She wore a sword at her belt, one of long ago. Back when she was not a delicate maiden, a queen, but another elf lass who romped with her friends in the woods. Now it was merely ceremonial, a decoration just like herself. The tears on her cheeks began to freeze over. Taking the sleeve of her cloak, she wiped away the wetness and turned to the ones Elrond had sent to accompany her. A few of them were of her household. Recognizing one of them, an elf named Targil.

"Targil," Celebrían whispered softly, bringing her pony over to him.

"Yes milady?" Targil replied with a swift bow.

"The Moon is high in the sky. I am wearied with fatigue. Could we take a brief respite?" she asked.

"Of course, milady." Targil looked concern. "Is milady not feeling well?"

Celebrían paused for a moment as if shaking off something. "Nay, I'm fine. I'm just feeling exhausted. After an hour's rest I ought to be ready to go on."

Targil gazed upwards at the sky and said almost to himself, "I do not know. The woods are not as safe as they used to be, especially with Sauron's power growing by each year. Foul creatures roam these lands."

Celebrían shivered involuntarily. Her lord sent some of his best soldiers to escort her. She would be fine. Who would dare strike such an elven host? Deep inside of her, a small voice told her that they were not invulnerable. Elven host indeed. They were merely a group of wandering elves. Fifty at most. Nothing a band of Orcs would fear, especially if hunger or vengeance drove them.

Stop that. Celebrían scolded herself. This kind of thinking will only get you more upset. She looked at the stars, saying, "Tiro ven Elbereth." _May Elbereth watch over us,_ she thought to herself. She found herself holding onto the locket, whispering, "Elrond, melethron. How I miss you already." Turning away, she leapt nimbly off her horse. The rest of the elves followed suit, and they managed to set up camp. Five of them went of to scout, and all but Targil formed a ring of protection around Celebrían.

"Sleep, milady," Targil said soothingly, spreading out a blanket for Celebrían to lay upon.

"Thank you, Targil," she said softly, lying down.

It was a moonless night. Clouds drifted in the sky, obscuring stars as well. A bad omen… Celebrían thought as she drifted off to sleep. It seemed as if she had barely closed her eyes when a shout pierced through the air. "Drego, drego!" she heard the soldiers bellow. Her eyes sprung open. Flee? From what? Jumping up, she saw. A pack of Orcs had come upon them. Her heart sank. They were outnumbered, at least three to one. Celebrían looked around wildly. Where would she go? Who would bring her to safety? The elven warriors were fighting valiantly, but it was a lost cause. They were lost.

A hand grabbed her arm and Celebrían shrieked, but the other hand reached out and covered her mouth, grabbing her into the brushes. "Dîn!" commanded Targil, and Celebrían was far to frightened to rebuke the soldier for ordering her to be silent. Besides, he was a seasoned warrior and a captain at that. He would know what's best in the situation. He took his hand away from her mouth, but his other hand clutched her arm tightly. He seemed to be listening for something. "Milady, this way!" he called suddenly, sprinting off towards the north.

Picking up her skirts, Celebrían tried to follow. She had gone naught but three steps when she tripped and fell. It was over…she thought to herself. Targil would have run far long ago. It would not be for a long while until he realized her absence. But to her surprise, strong arms grabbed her and heaved her up. Targil had returned! He lifted the slight elven women onto his back and continued to flee. Celebrían relaxed under the steady beat of the elf's footsteps. She could not hear any noises of plants dying crushed under the heavy footsteps of Orcs. They would be saved. She laid her head down. Just as she thought they were safe, a sharp twang of an arrow being released from a bow made her turn. Before she could react, Targil dropped her to the ground and sprang in front. He fell with five arrows in his chest.

"Targil! Targil!" Celebrían sobbed, grabbing the dead elf. She was alone now. There was no one to save her. No one but herself. The Orcs came one by one, jeering at her and laughing in their crude way.

Celebrían made no move to run. Why should she? In a flash her hand went to her belt, unsheathing a sword in one fluid movement. "Take me if you can."

Memories of training came flooding back to her. But it was too late. Though she had been one of the best at the sword in Lórien, long years of disuse had rusted her skills as well as the sword. Once a masterpiece created by the best swordsmiths, the intricate and detailed sword was dull without sheen. But Celebrían herself glowed with a fey light. For a moment the Moon peeked out from behind the clouds, and the Orcs cowered. And that was when Celebrían struck. Leaping forward, she swiftly decapitated the head of one of the nearest Orcs. At the same time her foot shot out and knocked down two of the other Orcs. With a cry she stabbed forward, piercing the heart of another Orc.

She had taken down most of them. There was only twenty left. But Celebrían was tired. The sword, which had once felt so natural in her hand, now weighed heavily. She turned to flee. But no matter how fast she ran, Celebrían felt the hot breath of the Orcs panting behind her. No matter how difficult of a path she tried to run, she could hear their feet stamping closely. Finally she collapsed onto the ground and everything went black.


	6. From Nightmare to Reality

Chapter Six

From a Nightmare to Reality

Celebrían stirred, moaning. Pain shot through her body like needles as she tried to recollect what happened. Memories of being hit over the head with the cruel hammer of an orc reached her. Something vague about indescribable agony. What did they do to her? Or what were they planning to do with her? Her head pounding, Celebrían managed to sit up shakily. The nearest orc growled something at her. Celebrían tried to shake her head, but the pain racking her skull made it impossible. After a few guttural noises, the orc managed to say something in common speech. "What are you doing in our woods, elf?" he snarled.

Celebrían reeled as she tried to think of a reply. "TELL ME!" the orc demanded, whipping out an evil looking knife. Celebrían mouthed wordlessly, her tongue running across her lips, trying to put some moisture into the dry, cracked lips. The orc moved closer, the knife glinting wickedly in the dark light of the night. "Melethron, melethron!" Celebrían cried, unable to say anything else but call for her Elrond. "O Elbereth!" The orc froze. Celebrían looked around wildly. "O Elbereth, Gilthoniel. Silivren penna miriel!" She had found her voice. Her sweet, tremulous voice rang through the air. "Be gone, yrch!" she called, staggering up. A few feet away she saw her sword. Diving over she reached it, scrabbling to grab hold of it. Closing her eyes, she stabbed forward, shuddering as it hit the body of the creature with a dull thud. Black blood spurted out, staining her ruined gown.

But her song had roused the other orcs. Though she had been guarded by only one sentry, eventually the others came along. Apparently when she was unconscious, they had gained reinforcements. She looked around when her strength failed her. The fog was not without purpose, for she saw that they were in the Misty Mountains. Collapsing onto the ground, she waited for the orcs to come and tie her up again. The minutes passed slowly. Her face buried in the ground, her lustrous silvery gold hair a disaster, Celebrían remained there waiting. She was not left alone for within a moment she blacked out again.

When she awoke, it was to the harsh machineries of the orcs. Clangs and bangs echoed throughout the hollow cavern, making her headache worse. But she would have more than just pains in her head soon enough. She felt herself being lifted by the hairy hands of the orcs. Celebrían was being borne to one of the machines. Since her refusal to speak of neither her name nor her whereabouts, she realized with a sinking heart that they were going to torture them out of her. _You must be strong…_ Celebrían told herself. _Think about what Nana or __Ada__ would do in this situation. _She knew her lady mother would rather die then betray her kind. And she knew her father would too. So would she. Celebrían…the Silver Queen…to meet her death at the hands of the crude machines of the orcs? It would not be so. She would live through this pain.

As if reaffirming her thoughts, the Elessar began to shine. Despite the dank and dark of the cavern, its bright green light pierced through the atmosphere. She took a deep breath. Her voice cried out for the last time, "Elbereth!" before she was placed on one of the machines. The last thought that drifted through her head was that the orcs could not even do their own torture. Her hand clamped firmly on her mouth, refusing to scream. But a strong hand yanked her own from her mouth, forcing them onto a rack. Rough iron chains bound her to it, and Celebrían saw that they were not taking any more chances. Closing her eyes, she gritted her teeth, preparing for the worst. No matter what happened, she would not give anything up. She would live through this. She would not die.

Celebrían remembered nothing more. All she knew was that she woke up crumpled in a side part of the cavern. Her body was broken. All of her will to live vanished. Blood was streaming down her forehead, obscuring her vision. She could feel numerous bones broken or cracked. Her feet were sore and swollen. Celebrían's hands were no longer delicate and tapered as they had been in her earlier days. Most of her fingers were broken save the pointer and the thumb of her left hand. She only wanted to stop the pain. Looking around, she felt like a bird whose wings had been broken. The stench of orcs was overbearing. She groaned, propping herself up by the elbows. There was neither food nor water. Not that she expected any.

But in her pouch she had a few wafers of lembas. And a small flask of miruvor. Clutching her forehead, Celebrían managed to sit up. Her ribs dug into her small body, causing her breathing to come out harsh and ragged. Her mouth was devoid of saliva, completely dry. Celebrían tried to open the flask with her two working fingers. But they like her feet were sore and swollen. She could not bear to look at the parts where her fingers stuck out in bizarre positions, the bones shattered. Suddenly, the flask slipped, dropping to the floor.

Celebrían took a sharp breath as the glass shattered and the precious liquid diffused into the parched ground. Instinctively she dove forward, scrabbling with a piece of glass that had a few drops left. She licked up the bit she could find. A bit of vigor refilled in her veins. She could move on.


End file.
